


Walden 3 Minecraft Steve

by leviassthan



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Arson, Captivity, Character Study, Dark, Drama, F/M, Feminist Themes, Harm to Animals, Late Stage Capitalism, Monsters, Murder, Possessive Steve(Minecraft), Steve(Minecraft) Character Study, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere Steve(Minecraft)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviassthan/pseuds/leviassthan
Summary: An eccentric young man by the name of Steve awakens in an unfamiliar world with little to no recollection of what happened beforehand. In his travels to discover the truth he soon happens upon a village full of people where, due to his violent aspirations for more and heinous acts, he runs into conflict with the village and love with the local female villager, and in time both may undo his rise to power.
Relationships: Steve (Minecraft)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Walden 3 Minecraft Steve

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically an interpretation of what the possible ramifications of Steve’s more violent actions in Minecraft would be like, if looked at and explored from a more serious perspective. The general concept played straight is goofy but interesting, and I hope that reading the literary interpretation of Minecraft as a dramatic and tragic story is entertaining!

Steve’s eyes involuntarily opened, waking up with no idea of where he was. Drifting square white clouds on top of a blue sky drizzled on top of flat green plains as far as the eye could see. An empty blocky world with no one around for miles. Empty because he had killed so many people up to this point that he didn’t even remember his sprees.

His earliest memory was walking out of a burning forest with a handful of steaks. Steve got up to his feet, spry as ever, and began punching a tree. Carrying stacks upon stacks of oak logs, he headed north across the river trekking across sand and clay. Upstream he found himself stumbling across a village in his exploration of the open world before him searching for the truth.

As Steve entered the village, the butchers, the doctors, and the traders all stopped to stare at him. Who was this strange, hunched over burly creature of a man, with almost no features on his face to speak of? Some sort of strange mutant had just walked into their town, earning an additional odd look from the protective iron golem which patrolled the stony ramparts. Perhaps this strange blank-faced fellow in a blue shirt had just come as a roaming trader to help build their little town. Steve looked down at the villagers with nothing but static in his eyes for these lesser beings.

Steve laid eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was a villager who looked just like him. Square-cut brown hair, emerald eyes, a similarly pretty face with a prominent nose and big droopy eyes, dressed in a faded shirt, pants, and boots. The only difference was that she wore a brown striped robe and a cloak atop her shoulders, and she lacked the same narcissistic confidence that he held in anything he did. Their same-colored eyes met, to him it was an unspoken sudden intimacy. She was his princess, his bounty, his prize, to him she would be known as Villagette as she was a female villager, after all!

The villagers proceeded to watch as Steve took an axe to the village head’s home and chopped it into bits. The unruly golem and the running villagers were next. He cut them down like he would the trees for his next home built upon the graves of the villagers. One by one he rounded them up like animals for the slaughter, his rogue thirst and determination reigning champion over their attempts to communicate or make peace. Steve drew a flint and steel from his inventory to set the houses and woods ablaze, the villagers running away from the crazed psychopath incinerating what remained of their normal lives.

Fire and smoke filled the skies as Steve gave the villagers what they deserved. Violence, bloodshed, and chains as the survivors were left to rot chained to the walls of what used to be their basements, now covered in green day mold. Steve got to work creating a society that represented his own personal utopia, by all accounts a metropolis even more beautiful and efficient than what the villagers began with. Yet the villagers would not be able to reap the wealth and spoils of their labor, for they were relegated to slaving away to uphold the lifestyle of the bourgeoise.

The all-seeing ruler, big brother Steven, reigned supreme over his servants, his people. He would sit at the top of the newly built watchtower with his enchanted diamond armor and fire arrows, burning with the fires of hell itself. If a single villager moved out of line, he would shoot them until they were dead. The villagers were nothing more than objects to maintain Steve’s affluence in his paradise at the top. Now Villagette had no one else to turn to but him.

“I burned down a city for you, baby, and I’d do it again.” He spoke roughly, running his fingers through her long black hair as she stared up with him with all color left from her face. “You aren’t like those other dirty villagers. You’re Villagette.” Now he was the only person she had left.

Each magnificent structure little by little, bit by bit, hoped to scrub away the destruction, to hide Steve’s crimes. He trapped every animal one by one—chicken, cow, pig, sheep—putting them into inhumane conditions in squeezed pens before forcing them to breed in return for his providing them with feed, all so that he could get more resources that he didn’t even need.

To call him a capitalist was going too far—he was doing this for fun, not for profit. Steve was a portrait of a man whose very essence represented late stage capitalism. His hunger for power knew no bounds. His mind at this point was not created by nature, but a destroyer of it. The animal need to survive taken to its logical extreme.

The structures out in the world he would travel to scope out for his next conquering were all abandoned by the other villagers and rebels, because everyone had run from Steve. The jungle temple was filled with traps intended to kill unwelcome intruders like him. The desert temple got rigged with TNT in the hopes it would kill him in his quest for more treasure like the greedy, horrific monster that he was. The mobs of creatures that fought him, spiders, creepers, endermen—were all trying to stop him from eating their children.

Villagette lived at the bottom of the tower, and she would kneel by the window with her hands clasped together watching the koi swim in the artificial pond. She was his girlfriend now. The only villager allowed unbound in his presence. Villagette was beautiful, perfect, and efficient, just like his five-hundred animal killing farms.

She was a mirror image of himself. Steve couldn’t have asked for more in a mate. She was always so quiet, though. Whenever he would speak to her, she would only respond with a thoughtful, “Hmm.” Even filled with decorations and uprooted flowers Steve’s life lacked color or feeling, and under his watching eye Villagette was still all alone. She was expressly forbidden from leaving the walls of their city under any circumstance lest she encounter all sorts of monsters… Soon Villagette could see what her place in this grand scheme was. Each serving, each smile, each supportive remark, she had observed, adapted, and set it all set out in such a way as to not dare disturb Steve’s sense of control.

Steve would take her out for long walks in the woods he had cleared to look out over the landscape of his town. Villagette smiled and took care of him and accepted his material gifts with as much sensitivity towards his ego lest she find her head on the wall next, but on the inside she knew that while Steve was at the apex of the social system, he was not truly enlightened.

Steve was the falsely enlightened one-- he had obtained his power through violence and exploitation and spent his days in hedonism and greed. In her romance with him Villagette had more than enough time to form a plan to rise up to replace the seemingly indomitable Steve at the apex and find the truth. She would find the truth and achieve intellectual enlightenment.

One night while Steve laid on his bed trying to sleep, Villagette hurried out of the multi-tiered fully automated mansion into the night with her cloak nestled around her squarish form. Steve tried to force her to bed again, for there was no way he could rest until he knew she was also in bed, so she stuffed her side of the bed with a chest full of the many potatoes they were afforded from their unsustainable farms. She walked out into the yet-undeveloped woods surrounding the metropolis, unable to make out much of the surrounding area due to the fog.

In her journey to continue gathering supplies to craft the tools that would lead to her ascension, she stopped at the sight of man-made impacts on the land. Was this Steve’s doing? Pyramids of sand perfectly composed, entire forests of trees that weren’t burnt yet all their leaves had been shaved off, and rock tunnel holes shaped just right for Steve to fit into. Just out of the corner of her eye Villagette would see a glimpse, a silhouette, a shadow, of something in the depths of the fog.

Turning back from over her shoulder to look head on she now saw in full misty view a figure of a man that resembled Steve. Worried that Steve would catch her exploring the outdoors, and the structures that resembled his own, she was near certain it was him. She chased Steve who looked at her before he was enveloped through the vapor. Running after the man who seemed to nearly glide away into the fog, she came up close enough to be staring directly down at him through a reflection in the water mirrored from her own.

He had Steve’s face, clothing, body—but there was no way this mysterious visitor could be Steve. His eyes were blank, yet brighter than the surrounding area like that of a monster, nearly a light source. He was stood up straight, arms hanging by his sides, and he did nothing but watch Villagette. No longer alone in the wilderness, Villagette appeared visibly taken aback.

“Looking for something?” The man asked, his tone as blank and empty as his eyes.

“--I came out here to get some supplies.” Villagette sputtered out, choosing to answer the ghost-like being truthfully with no concept of what might happen next.

“So villagers can talk? You’re wise not to speak around Steve. He wouldn’t listen to what anyone had to say. He is a thing plaguing this world that needs to be… corrected.”

Villagette studied his face. “Who are you?”

“Herobrine. It’s Herobrine. I can see that you haven’t yet taken care of the disease. As a denizen of this world surely your duty would be to protect it.”

“Herobrine… Hello, Herobrine.” She responded, as though responding to someone familiar.

Villagette took a step back from the double in the water, her demeanor shifting to serious, looking down at him coldly.

“I’m planning to deal with the… situation, as soon as I can.”

“Perhaps you aren’t going about it the right way. Trying to build a complex trap to outsmart Steve when he is invincible and has enough weaponry to destroy in seconds anything you could create. It looks like he has got you trapped in his clutches, like the other villagers, only you are kept in his home rather than a chamber underground.”

“I’ll find a way to prove that I can be strong too. Just give me a moment to think.”

“For now, Steven has you trapped.”

“Only for the time being, Herobrine. For the time being. I’ll deal with the disease as soon as I return to his home.”

“Will you, Ms. ‘Villagette’?”

“There isn’t anything that would bring me greater pleasure, Herobrine.”

“You’ll do that, you will. But you need supplies, don’t you?”

When Villagette returned home and walked through the labyrinth to return to the bedroom with Steve, she looked surprised to see that a spider had appeared inside one of the more darkly-lit chambers of the mansion. It would only be a matter of time until Steve built another monster farm in the dark and funneled them downwards to harvest their organs, but Villagette found herself marveling at how life could be so resilient. Using her hands to punch a hole through the wall to the outside, she pushed the trapped spider out to save it, rather than kill it as Steve would have done. Now there was just one last thing she needed to take care of.

Steve had removed his armor hours ago in order to get to sleep in a comfortable manner atop the white pillow and sheet, the red blanket of his bed wrapped over his shoulders after Villagette had tucked him into. He didn’t hug onto the bag of potatoes that composed her makeshift form, rather he turned away on his side and ignored her as he had the nights before. Little did Steven know she was now standing right over his bed, about to paint the rest of the bed just as red.

In a flash, she placed down several rolls of crimson TNT around his bed. Looking back over her shoulder she noted what would be her path out. As she took the flint and steel out and prepared to run, her blank eyes fell on Steve. Steve may have become the king, but the rule of a king was not everlasting.

“Look at you. Able to sleep at night even knowing you’ve assaulted the environment and massacred millions of innocent people and creatures alike. Too bad you won’t quite be dying peacefully in your sleep.” The hints of a smile crept onto her face for the first time in forever as she was about to obtain the key to the kingdom, speaking her final words to him while he stirred in his slumber. “You will never reach the truth, Steven. Word of advice, Steven, why don’t you give me another present by never waking up?”

With that, Villagette struck the flint and steel at the end of his bed before turning and running away down the hall lest she get caught in the explosion. As the embers of Steve’s remains and the mansion smoldered away and she watched from the wooded courtyard, Villagette was able to take back what had been stolen from her. She may not be able to undo everything, but with Steve gone and the resources he left behind at her disposal, she knew that she could end the cycle of pain and dominance and find the truth.


End file.
